


Once More, with Feeling

by PumpkinHeadJones



Category: Psych
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bottom!Shawn, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, Flogging, Humiliation, Internalized Homophobia, Kinda, Lassie Has Trust Issues, M/M, Masochism, Misogyny, Non-Linear Narrative, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, POV Carlton Lassiter, Painplay, Present Tense, Prostate Massage, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sadism, Safeword Use, Shassie, Unhealthy Relationships, Unresolved Emotional Tension, cis normative attitudes, dark!Lassie, sorrynotsorry, unsafe sexual practices
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-23 15:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4882903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinHeadJones/pseuds/PumpkinHeadJones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because “I want to fuck you until you cry” is much easier to say than – well, you know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This will be my only long intro note, I swear. 
> 
> I don't generally do angst. I mostly do kinky, gratuitous, acrobatic porn. But I have a lot of feels lately, and I've been watching a lot of dark TV shows on Netflix, which has gotten me thinking about dark sexy bad stuff. Also, I tend to be too wordy, so I've been forcing myself to edit and write very short chapters that are no longer than 500 words. So here we go.
> 
> I will post warnings for content at the beginning of each (very, very short) chapter so you can skip whatever you need to. The story is really more of a jumbled collection of snapshots into what I can only call a very dysfunctional farce of a BDSM relationship.
> 
> THIS IS NOT HOW BDSM RELATIONSHIPS SHOULD BE CONDUCTED. This story is intended to depict an unsafe, arguably borderline abusive relationship, in which safety nets, preparation, and aftercare are basically ignored. If this kind of thing is triggering for you, GO BACK NOWWWW. Do not look at the behaviors in this story as models for how to conduct a healthy, consensual BDSM relationship.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: bondage, overstimulation, anal sex, sex toys, oral

Before Spencer, Carlton had never considered himself a sexually sadistic person. It was all vanilla-missionary-p-in-the-v-with-cuddles-and-cop-shows-at-the-end for him. But something about watching the slutty little fraud break into tiny little pieces beneath him awakens something dark inside of Carlton, something he’s always pushed down and ignored, like an itch he could never let himself scratch. But now, when he sees Spencer’s naked body stretched out on the bed, tugging weakly at the restraints holding his arms and legs out in an X and trying to wiggle away from the vibrating dildo that’s pressing relentlessly against his over-stimulated prostate, Carlton can’t help but to want to hurt him.

“I said, be _still_ ,” Carlton barks, slapping Spencer on the thigh to get him to stop squirming. “Or do you _want_ me to pull out the flogger?”

“I – I’m trying, Lassie,” Spencer pants, brows furrowed with concentration as he attempts to still his hips. His muscles are visibly shaking with the strain of it. “You’ve been fucking around with my asshole for over an hour now! Now it’s just getting – ugh – uncomfortable. I honestly don’t think you can get me to come a – a third time.”

Carlton considers Spencer’s words, watching the vibrator as he shoves it in and out of his slutty little stretched out hole. He knows the man beneath him is probably tapped out for the night. He’d never been able to get Spencer to come more than twice in one night; his refractory period just didn’t allow it. Hell, even Carlton had already gotten his; he idly runs a finger through the rapidly cooling jizz on Spencer’s chest, swiping it up and stuffing his dirtied finger’s into the fraud psychic’s lying little mouth to suck on. Spencer’s eyes slide closed and he lets out a soft little moan as he starts to lazily swirl his tongue around the fingers in his mouth. Carlton feels a stab of arousal course through him and down to his spent cock at the sensation.

“That sounds an awful lot like a challenge to me, Spencer,” Carlton says smoothly, and watches Spencer’s eyes shoot open as he takes the sticky, flaccid, over-stimulated cock before him back into his mouth.

Yep, Spencer is probably tapped out. That doesn’t mean Carlton doesn’t want to try.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it almost makes Carlton a little angry, how easily Spencer gives it up for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: posted in the end notes, for people who don't want spoilers. Please skip to the bottom if you want to check the warnings first.

Sometimes, it almost makes Carlton a little angry, how easily Spencer gives it up for him. He always knew the guy was a flirt and talked a big talk about his experience with the ladies, but the truth is that Shawn Spencer is an attention-starved little whore who will take it from absolutely anyone who’s offering – even Carlton Lassiter.

Spencer always made it too easy for him. The first night they ever hooked up, it was after a particularly brutal case; they nabbed the kidnapper, but they were too late to save the little girl. They were drunk – of _course_ they were drunk – and Spencer insisted that Carlton couldn’t be trusted to get himself home from Tom Blair’s Pub on his own, despite his protestations (“I know how to call a damn cab, Spencer!”). Of course the little shit invited himself in, and _of course_ he already knew exactly where Carlton stashes his top shelf booze. Carlton had wanted to shout at Spencer to leave, but that day had been hard on him – missing persons cases that end in the morgue are always hard on him – and he just wanted something else to beat up besides himself for a little while.

That ninth double scotch was probably what erased from his memory the chain of events that got them from swapping banter on Carlton’s couch to dry humping on Carlton’s bed. It was all a bit of a blur. But Carlton remembers that next part like it was yesterday: Spencer writhing around like a bitch in heat, begging for his cock, until he head butted Carlton in the chin; Carlton rearing back with a curse and reflexively smacking Shawn lightly across the cheek for his carelessness; Shawn suddenly going stiff and convulsing, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he came in his pants like a virgin. Carlton could only stare at the rapidly growing dark spot on Spencer’s dark wash jeans for a moment before saying,

“Christ, Spencer, I knew you were a whore, but I never pegged you for a pain slut, too.”

Spencer, rather than deny the accusation, had just whimpered as another blat of jizz soaked into his jeans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: dirty talk, drunk sex, hitting during sex


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shawn thinks he’s the only one who can read people, but whenever Carlton has him like this, he can always tell what Shawn’s really thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: please see the end notes for warnings.

“Lassie, _pleeeeease_ ,” Spencer whines, head thrashing side to side as Carlton corkscrews his tongue around the inside of his asshole. He slips it out, circles the rim two or three good times, and then runs it up his perineum. Finally he brings his tongue to Spencer’s tightly constricted balls, rolling them around and then popping one into his mouth to suck. Spencer starts to squirm, apparently struggling to hold his legs up as Carlton tortures his cock ring restrained genitals. Carlton releases the testicle in his mouth, licks his way over the leather strap forcing the testes apart, and pops the other one into his mouth instead.

“Goddamnit, Lassie, I need to _coooooome_ ,” Shawn begs, and Carlton can hear the real desperation behind the playful whine in his voice. Shawn thinks he’s the only one who can read people, but whenever Carlton has him like this, he can always tell what Shawn’s really thinking. How he’s feeling. What he needs. When his ‘no’s and ‘please stop’s actually mean, “I want it, but I want you to fight me a little for it first.” Spencer is an open book, and an open pair of legs.

Like right now, for example. Shawn is begging Carlton to stop the torture, take off the cock ring, and let him come, for Christ’s sake, but Carlton knows he’s not ready to be finished. The instant Carlton takes off that cock ring, there is no way Spencer will be able to keep from coming. Then this little – _whatever_ this is – between them will be over again. He will have to put his little shorts back on, button up his wrinkled shirt, and take the walk of shame back to whatever dump of a storefront he’s calling home these days.

Carlton knows Shawn is about as ready to come as the detective is ready to let him come. He releases the slobbery testicle from his mouth and stabs his tongue back into Spencer’s asshole without warning. Spencer sounds for a moment like he’s going to choke on his own tongue, but Carlton’s not worried. He’s only been at this for two hours, and Spencer has gone much longer for him than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: orgasm delay/denial, rimming


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anything Carlton can think of, Spencer just takes. With enthusiasm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: please see the end notes.

It’s not like Carlton is the only one who gets anything out of this – this arrangement thing he has going with Spencer. Anything Carlton can think of, Spencer just takes. With _enthusiasm_. Whatever Carlton feels up for, Spenser always agrees. Whether it's rough fucking, with only spit for lube, deepthroating, spanking, bondage, water sports, or even _crossdressing_ (now _that_ was a night), Spencer has done it all for Carlton, and then some, with a smile. In fact, on the not infrequent nights when the detective feels at a loss for how else he could possibly defile Shawn's slutty little body, the fake psychic often comes to the rescue with his own new and exciting suggestions for torture. Indeed, some of the more, well, _degrading_ sexual acts carried out between the two of them have actually been Spencer's ideas.

Like all of the public sex, for example. To be honest, the public sex isn't always Carlton's cup of tea; he's head detective for fuck's sake, and can't afford to get caught butt fucking a sweaty, panting consultant for the Santa Barbara police on a park bench after dark. Still, the hummers in bathroom stalls and janitors' closets are hard to turn down.

There are times when Carlton almost considers trying truly heinous stuff on him, stuff even he isn’t into, just to see if he can get Spencer to safeword him. Just to see if there is anything the little slut _won’t_ agree to give him. He thought he almost got there once with a barbed cat-o-nine-tails, but not only did Shawn take all ten strokes to his backside without calling it quits, he also came like a river on the tenth, cock completely untouched, all over the floor beneath him as he sobbed his ‘thank you sir.’ Carlton had watched in awe as tiny trickles of blood dripped down his back and around his sides to drip down on the floor and intermix with the semen there.

“Christ, Spencer, is there anything you won’t let me do to you?” he bites out between clenched teeth, voice rough as he practically rips his pants open so he can sink his throbbing cock into Spencer’s stretched, slightly bloodied ass.

It’s like he’ll take anything Carlton wants to give him. Or maybe it’s just that he’ll take anything anyone will give him. Or maybe he really is just that into being knocked around during sex. Carlton isn’t sure how he feels about any of those possibilities, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: whipping, public sex, humiliation kink, pain play, slight ish blood play (kind of not really?? there's a mention of blood), pushing a sub's limits


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes there are moments, just little moments, when Carlton starts to have crazy thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: please see the end notes for warnings.

Sometimes there are moments, just little moments – usually just after the sex stuff is over, but before Carlton sends Spencer packing – when Carlton starts to have crazy thoughts. Like, truly fucked-in-the-head crazy. Like how it would feel to just fuck Spencer in the normal way, no teeth or whips or nipple clamps. No safewords or handcuffs. Sometimes, he thinks about letting the lying little fraud stay the night after they are finished. Not that he would ever admit any of it to Spencer.

Because these thoughts scare him. This arrangement of theirs is supposed to be about letting off steam. They’re about Carlton feeling like he can punish someone besides himself for once, and Spencer feeling – well, Carlton isn’t sure what Spencer gets out of letting Carlton use him like a voodoo doll. Maybe it's his way of making up for being a lying sack of shit ninety percent of the time. Maybe it's just another way he gets to control and ruin Carlton's life. Whatever it is, the little fraud obviously he gets something from it, or he wouldn’t keep coming back for more week after week.

But that’s beside the point. The point is that this arrangement has nothing to do with _feelings_. When thoughts about vanilla sex and slumber parties start to pop up, Carlton has to be careful to redraw that line in the sand.

"We're done now. You can leave."

Carlton doesn't mean for his voice to sound so, well, panicky. But Spencer has been lying in his bed, one leg thrown over his torso and one hand fingering through his chest hair, for the better part of a half hour now, and it's starting to lull Carlton into a comfortable doze. Spencer's hand stops sliding over his chest, but he doesn't move. Instead he just stares at Carlton, doing that annoying little eye-squint thing he does when he spots a clue. Carlton clears his throat and pushes Spencer's leg off of him.

"You know where the door is."

"Wow, Carly, you really know how to make a girl feel special," Spencer retorts, letting his hand slide off of Carlton's chest only when Carlton sits up and throws his legs over the side of the bed to find his boxers. He still has not made to move from his place in the bed. "Can't I stay over tonight?"

Carlton freezes with one leg in his boxers, then snaps his head around to stare incredulously at Spencer. "Absolutely not."

"Aww, _come on_ , Lassie!" Spencer whines, wincing as he sits up (Carlton really did a number on his asshole tonight). "There's a really scary closet back at my place and I'm too afraid to open it, and Gus is in San Diego this weekend for a pharmaceutical conference."

Carlton rolls his eyes at the closet comment, but doesn't immediately respond.

"Come on, Lassieface, You won't even notice I'm here. Unless you want to, that is." Spencer starts to slide over toward Carlton, putting feather-light kisses on the back of his neck in just the right spot to give him shivers.

It feels good. And that's the problem.

Carlton whips around and slaps Spencer right across the cheek. Spencer reels back, gasping in surprise.

"Do not touch me without my permission, _Spencer_ ," Carlton hisses, standing up and sliding his boxers the rest of the way on. "Don't try and make this something it's not. I want you gone when I come out." And then he strides over to the master bathroom and slams the door behind him without looking back.

This can't be anything more than stress release. It's bad enough that Carlton is capable of doing these kinds of things to anyone at all, let alone someone he actually has feelings for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: bad dom practices, abusive dom practices, neglecting aftercare needs of a sub
> 
> A/N: Whoops, this one is 625 words. Oh well, I like it like it is, so I'm just gonna be bad and let it be.
> 
> Man, Carlton is being an asshat. But I'm really enjoying playing the part of the unreliable narrator.


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation from the day after their first drunken mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: none
> 
> A/N: The following conversation takes place the day after their first drunken hookup, which is detailed in chapter 2. Just don't want the non-linear format of the story to throw anyone off, especially since the last chapter has similar events and could make the timeline seem muddled or confusing.

“So, we’re just not going to talk about last night, then?”

Lassie startles so hard he sloshes hot coffee all over his hand and the report he’s reading.

“Damnit, Spencer, don’t sneak up on a guy like that!” he spits, jumping up out of his chair, quickly putting the coffee cup down, and trying to shake the scalding liquid off of his skin.

“Whoa, sorry man, easy. Didn’t you hear me walk up?”

“Yes, Spencer. That’s why I have coffee all over me. Because I heard you walking up.”

“You know what they say about jumpy people, Lassie,” Spencer says breezily. “Guilty conscience.”

“You must never be able to relax, then,” Carlton mutters, wiping off the papers in his hands with a Kleenex.

“You hurt me, Lassie,” Shawn sighs, placing his hand on his chest like he’s clutching a string of pearls. “Anyway, I’m not here to bant with you.” He pauses. “Banter-ize? Swap bants? Bant-erogate?” He looks at Carlton as if expecting some sort of cue, but Carlton simply glares silently back. “I think we need to talk about last night.”

“Absolutely not, Spencer,” Carlton hisses through gritted teeth, grabbing the fraud psychic by the scruff of his neck and yanking him forward so close that their noses are practically touching. “You swore last night that you would not bring this crap up to me again.”

“Yes, but you had me pushed up and restrained against the wall,” Spencer breathes out, and Carlton notices his pupils start to dilate from the rough handling. “You probably could have gotten me to agree to _anything_ then.”

Before his brain can start to conjure images of what he might have convinced Spencer to do for him against the wall in his foyer, Carlton scowls at him.

“Why the hell do you want to talk about it, anyway? It was a mistake, and I – you pissed me off and made me _hit_ you.”

“Yeah, and it made me jizz my pants,” Shawn says pointedly, gesturing down to his crotch, which is a part of Spencer that Carlton really doesn’t want to be looking at right now. “Look, Lassiekins, all I’m saying is that you were obviously into controlling me last night, and I think it goes without saying that I didn’t exactly hate it either.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that it was still a mistake,” Carlton spits, yanking Spencer’s stupid, grinning face away from his by the short hairs on his neck. He ignores the little whimper it gets from Spencer.

“Hey, mistakes are in the eye of the mistaken, Lassie,” the little liar says with a shrug.           

“It’s ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,’ dumbass,” Carlton bites, sitting back down at his desk and pretending to go back to reading his report.

“Eh, I’ve heard it both ways.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm really not sure how many chapters this will have. I haven't even decided if I want to come to any sort of resolution for our boys. This is the most open-ended, least planned out project I've ever worked on, and it's really kind of freeing in some ways, but also very challenging in others.
> 
> Anyway, I hope to get some more kudos and maybe even some written feedback sometime soon. Positive feedback or constructive criticism is always welcome, in my book. Also, any suggestions for situations that you might like to see played out in this fic are always welcome. Is there a kink you'd like me to explore? A conflict I haven't dumped on our boys yet? A side character you'd like to see brought into the madness? (not sexually...or yeah, maybe even sexually???) Hit me up. I like suggestions.


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlton Lassiter is not a queer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: see the end notes for this chapter's warnings.

Carlton Lassiter is not a queer.

Sure, he’s been fucking around with Spencer for the better part of a year now, but that’s practically like being with a woman, anyway. The way Spencer’s voice goes all high-pitched and whiney like a horny little bitch in heat, the way he submits to Carlton so completely, and in every way, he might as well be fucking a chick. Only difference is, Carlton has never met a woman with low enough self-respect to let him do even half the things he does to Spencer. Seriously, the way he talks to the lying little slut alone is just –

“Well, what do you think?”

Carlton gives a start and looks up from the whiskey he’s been swirling around and pretending to drink for the last half hour. Spencer’s been in the master bathroom this whole time, doing God-knows-what, preparing some sort of “surprise” for Carlton. Carlton had just dismissed Shawn’s attempts to pique his curiosity and told him to make it quick, whatever it is.

Apparently, his surprise is silk, nylon, and trimmed with lace.

“Spencer, what the hell are you wearing?” Carlton asks in a forced calm voice after staring slack jawed at the man standing in his bathroom doorway for several long, quiet seconds.

“It’s called _lingerie_ , Lassie,” Shawn huffs, pronouncing the word like _ling-er-ee_ and holding his hands out for Carlton to inspect his enemble.

“It’s pronounced _lon-gher-ay_ , you idiot,” Carlton growls, but it’s definitely not as biting or threatening as he wants it to sound. His eyes take in the sheer black chemise, the black silk panties with the lacy trim around the waistband, the _thigh_ highs, Christ almighty, and the three inch black pumps, and he feels a sharp stab of arousal course through his body at the sight of it.

“Eh, I’ve heard it both ways,” Shawn says in his high-pitched impression of a woman’s voice. “So tell me, Lassiekins, what do you think of my ensemble?” Carlton ignores the fact that Shawn obviously pronounced it _on-som-bleh_ to get a rise out of him and gives him another once over.

“It’s very – why did you – _are you wearing makeup_?” Carlton can’t help it. He jumps up from his place on the bed and strides over to Spencer to inspect him up close. Sure enough, his cheeks are rouged, and his eyelashes, which are usually a dark blondish color, are coated in black stuff.

“Yep,” Spencer confirms, then says, “Ooh! I almost forgot the best part.” He runs back into the bathroom for a few seconds, and when he comes back out, his lips are coated in bright red lipstick. Whore red. Lassiter’s blood boils at the sight, and his mind instantly conjures up images of those red lips stretched tight around the fat base of his throbbing cock.

“Looks like little Liza Minnelli is into it,” Spencer breathes, stepping toward Carlton and peering up at him through his cosmetically lengthened eyelashes. Holy shit.

“I told you to stop calling it that,” Carlton grits out, barely controlling himself from grabbing Spencer by his stupid little panties and manhandling to his stomach on the floor.

“Then who will duet with little Bette Midler over here?” Spencer asks, just barely pressing his silk clad cock up against Carlton’s in his slacks. Christ, what is even the point of this stupid chemise, anyway? Carlton can see everything through the sheer fabric, even Spencer’s pert, pebbled nipples. God that fabric must feel good against them, knowing how sensitive Spencer's nipples are. Carlton peaks down to their joined crotches to see the head of Spencer’s cock just peaking out from behind the lace waistband of his tight little panties, and he’s smearing precome all over the front of Carlton’s slacks, right onto the bulge beneath. Yep, that does it. Carlton waves goodbye to the last vestiges of his self-control.

“Get on the bed, and lie on your back with your legs held up, like a good little bitch,” Carlton barks, and Spencer literally trips over his own feet in his rush to obey the command. Probably the heels, Carlton muses as he sinks to his knees at the edge of the bed and mouths hungrily at Spencer’s silk-clad erection. Spencer lets out a low, gravelly moan and adjusts his grip on his slippery, nylon-clad legs (Christ, he even _shaved his legs_ ). Carlton probably aught to worry about how the sweaty, masculine musk of Spencer's cock makes his own untouched cock throb and leak out a little blob of precome in his pants, but he tucks that away to panic about in the morning and sucks the head of Spencer's cock into his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: crossdressing; homophobic, cis-normative and misogynistic undertones and attitudes; humiliation kink (related to the aforementioned undertones); oral
> 
> WHOOPS this chapter is wayyyy too long. Way above my self-imposed 500 word limit. Eh. 
> 
> I have a personal fetish for cis guys in women's lingerie. Also, basically ANYONE in lingerie - trans, cis, intersex, gender fluid, male, female, man, woman, in-between or neither, ANYONE in lingerie. God, I love lingerie. But I especially like to write about biological males who identify as men who like to wear women's lingerie. Sexuality is a funny thing. Also, gender is neat. :)
> 
> Please don't take my story above as my own personal views of gender expression. Hopefully it's obvious by now, but since I'm writing from Lassie's perspective, I am trying to keep true to his character (including his likely adherence to traditional gender-binary norms). That is, as true as I can be while putting him into multiple kinky sexual situations with another man, and one he kinda love-hates. 
> 
> Comments are like crack to me. Even critical ones. Please feed my addiction, if you feel so inclined.


	8. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Carlton wonders how Spencer manages to manipulate him so easily into these sorts of situations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: see the end notes for this chapter's warnings

“Lah-Lassie, _uhnnn_ , right there!”

“Will you shut the fuck up, Spencer? Someone will hear us!” Carlton’s voice is a desperate whisper.

“Ugh, I can’t – I can’t help it, it’s too goooood,” Spencer whimpers, gripping the back of the park bench until his knuckles turn white and thrusting his ass back to match Carlton’s punishing rhythm. Spencer’s button-down is ripped open, and his wife beater is pushed up so high that his nipples are exposed to the cool autumn breeze. The little slut managed to get his pants and boxer briefs completely off of one leg and down to the ankle of the other before scrambling up to sit on his knees on the bench, facing the back rest, and pushing his already lubed up asshole back toward Carlton in a blatant invitation to fuck him. Outside, on a park bench. And Carlton, apparently, had agreed. Or, not so much agreed as broke his trouser zipper in his haste to free his turgid cock and sink it into the tight, hot passage of Shawn’s asshole. Sometimes, Carlton wonders how Spencer manages to manipulate him so easily into these sorts of situations.

“Oh, _sweet baby J_ , that’s the spot, Carly! Uhn, that’s right, take me out here on this fucking park bench, show me and the world who’s boss, make me jizz all over this –“

“Goddamnit, Spencer, if you utter so much as another _word_ , I’m gonna jerk off on your back and not let you come for a _week_ ,” Carlton growls, trying to mask the panicked edge in his voice. He gives one of Spencer’s asscheeks a good firm slap for good measure. Spencer lets out a muted whimper, but otherwise obeys Carlton’s command.

No one is around – of _course_ no one is around, what with this being nearly two a.m. in a public park that closes at sunset – but Carlton can’t help but to look nervously to his left and his right every few seconds, breaking his concentration on Spencer’s prostate and ruining his rhythm. How the fuck did he get here, again? He needs to get the writhing little comeslut underneath him to jizz, and fast, if he wants to escape this situation with his job. So he reaches around Spencer’s hips and grabs onto his hard, leaking cock. He doesn’t worry about finesse as he roughly fists the slutty little cock in his hand, never once relenting on brutally fucking Spencer’s asshole from behind. Spencer is barely containing his pathetic little whimpering noises, and his hips are shaking from the tension coiling inside of him in preparation for his orgasm.

“Just _come_ , damnit,” Carlton growls, twisting his hand around the head of Spencer’s cock and digging his fingernails into Spencer’s hips hard enough to bruise and break the skin. That’s apparently what Spencer needs to push him over the edge, because now his asshole is convulsing around Carlton’s cock and gripping him so tight he can barely even thrust anymore, and thick gobs of come are painting themselves over the bench and Carlton’s hand. Carlton holds on long enough to fuck Spencer through his orgasm, and then pushes in as deep as he can go and releases. He sighs gruffly as he feels his own sperm add to the slick hotness inside of Spencer, and he humps Spencer’s ass two or three good times to ride himself through his own orgasm.

It’s not until he pulls out and sees his own come drip out of Spencer’s ass that Carlton starts to panic.

“Whoa, Carlton, easy,” Spencer says in a low, soothing voice, wincing as he pulls his undies and pants back up over his loose, sloppy asshole.

“No, I will _not_ take it easy, Spencer!” Carlton hisses, fumbling with his belt buckle. “This is the _last_ time you will ever seduce me in a public place, do you understand me?”

“Yeah, Carly, relax. I read you loud and clear. No more public sexy times. No worries.”

Carlton narrows his eyes at Spencer. He doesn’t trust the way the little lying slut has his hands behind his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: public sex, spanking (very light, like barely even there), bad shawn-esque dirty talk
> 
> A/N: I wanted to post at least one more sexy, un-angsty chapter before I get back into some of the darker themes I have planned for this story. Yep, these next few chapters are gonna hurt.
> 
> Also, I suck and I'm now just gonna say that all chapters will be under 700 or 800 words cus I legit can't follow my own self-imposed rules anymore. Meh.
> 
> Anywho. Comments, kudos, bookmarks, whatevs. If you feel so inclined, they are all so, so appreciated. I always reply to comments, both positive and constructive <3.


	9. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They aren’t doing anything fringy, or even sexual, when Spencer safewords Carlton for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end notes for this chapter's warnings.

They’re not even fucking when it happens. Carlton always expected it would happen while they were doing some of their fringier stuff, like the whole knifeplay thing, or that one time with the tiny metal rod that they stuck deep down into Spencer's –

Well anyway, the point is that that they aren’t doing anything fringy, or even sexual, when Spencer safewords Carlton for the first time. Sure, they’ve just finished, and Carlton hasn’t even gone to the bathroom to rinse Spencer’s jizz out of his chest hair yet, but they are no longer fucking.

Carlton doesn’t even get what Spencer’s problem is, anyway. He had to know that asking Carlton to hold him after sex would make him sound like a total fucking fairy bitch. Besides, the little slut is used to Carlton insulting him, even begs him for it sometimes when they’re fucking. _Ooh, that’s right, Lassie, I’m just a pathetic cockslut, tell me what a whore I am when your cock is inside of me_. How the fuck is what he just said any different?

“ _Don’t be such a faggot, Spencer_.”

The words barely even leave Carlton’s lips before he feels Spencer’s knuckles connect with his cheekbone, and _damn_ , the little slut’s got a mean right hook. Carlton watches, stunned, as Spencer yanks his jeans up over his battered, leaking ass and buttons them, spitting unintelligible curse words at him and searching for his shirt. It’s not until the little fraud finds it and storms out of the bedroom that Carlton realizes what Spencer was hissing at him over and over again.

“Gun control.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: aftercare neglect, bad/abusive dom practices, homophobic slurs, safeword use, brief mentions of dirty talk, sounding, and knifeplay
> 
> I'm weirdly impressed with myself for needing this many warnings for a 270 word chapter.
> 
> God, I swear I'm not just Lassie-bashing here. He's seriously my favorite character on psych, I swear. I just kinda like to explore the darker facets of his personality, and how they might manifest themselves in an unhealthy sexual relationship with someone he kinda hates but not really.
> 
> But yeah, my version of Carlton is a total asshole, amiright??
> 
> Comments/constructive criticisms/suggestions/requests/kudos are always welcome, if you feel so inclined! <3
> 
> XOX   
> Pumpkin


	10. Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The problem is that Spencer always comes back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See the end notes for this chapter's warnings.

The problem is that Spencer always comes back.

He came back after that horrible drunken first night together. He came back after the thing with the knives got out of hand, and Carlton refused to take him to the hospital and made him go by himself. He came back after Carlton ended it with him the first time. He came back after the whole faggot incident. He came back after the chief caught them in the back of the Blueberry and quietly gave them both unpaid leave, citing “insubordination” on the report and nothing else. He came back after Carlton ended it the third time. He came back after every time that Carlton refused to let him spend the night after a particularly brutal round of fucking, no matter how much he wanted to stay, and no matter how much Carlton wanted to let him. He even came back after that sloppy, embarrassing, drunken mistake in the closet during Carlton’s wedding reception, just after O’Hara dumped him, where Spencer cried and called him _daddy_ the whole time. No matter what Carlton does to Shawn, he always comes back for more.

Sometimes Carlton wishes Spencer would grow a backbone and stand up to him. Make Carlton stop treating him like this – this _thing_ – that he can punch around and jizz all over, dump and then pick back up again. Sometimes Carlton wishes Spencer would just stop coming back.

But Carlton knows he won’t. Because Spencer’s as weak as Carlton is, when it comes to this, and they both know that even this twisted, messy little thing between them is better than the empty nothingness they’d both grown so accustomed to before they first fell into bed together. The truth is, they’re both too starved for the attention they get from each other to ever risk backing out. They’re in too deep now, and Carlton is like a bolt of lightening that needs a lightning rod like Spencer to strike so he doesn’t wind up striking his very pregnant wife Marlowe instead. And there are things that Spencer needs that O’Hara could never give him, no matter how tough and strong she is. Unlike Carlton, she’s too good a person to do even half of the things Spencer needs done to him to keep himself from floating away into outer space.

Because that’s what it is. Carlton’s finally figured out what it is that Spencer gets out of their times together. Spencer’s like a balloon with way too much helium in it, and he’s bound to float away or burst without someone like Carlton to tether him down. _You keep me grounded, Lassie_ , he said once, while Carlton was spraying antiseptic spray over the welts on his ass. He didn’t really understand what the lying fraud meant at the time, but he understands Shawn Spencer much better now than he did back then.

Maybe he’s just full of shit. Maybe he’s just rationalizing away the guilt he should be feeling as he watches his cock disappear once more between those puffy, cracked lips while his wife is alone at their new home, waiting for him to get home from the station. But two big, hazel eyes stare unblinkingly up at him from under his desk in his brand new office, and Spencer’s got his fingers wrapped around the base of his own red, turgid cock. He’s waiting for Carlton to grant him permission to come, and Shawn isn’t even shaking with the strain of it, yet.

Marlow is just going to have to wait a little bit longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: infidelity, angst, mentions of knifeplay, mentions of public sex, mentions of neglecting aftercare, mentions of homophobic slurs, mentions of angsty daddy!kink, just a lot of angst in general, super cheesy simile use, mentions of flogging, mentions of being touch and intimacy starved
> 
> A/N: I really, really like this chapter. It is very angsty, but it brings a little more humanity back into my characterization of Carlton. Obviously, this chapter takes place just before the food truck episode where Marlowe goes into labor. This is the farthest down the timeline of Carlton and Shawn's relationship that I have gone so far. Honestly, this would be a really nice final chapter, if I wanted to make it linear. BUT it's not, and I have a lot of ideas in the works for future chapters (which, paradoxically, take place further in the past than this one).
> 
> Also, are James Roday's eyes even hazel? I kinda just looked at a blurry picture and took a guess. If anyone knows better, please drop me a line and I'll correct it.
> 
> Comments, criticisms, requests, kudos, etc., are always invited! Please feel free to feed my addiction, if you so please.


End file.
